Sunday, August 5, 2012


Today, I feel like Pinocchio when he became a real boy.  I've been wishing for so long to be published, and now it's happened. I'm real too.

I worked most of yesterday and part of today getting Couillon, my short story, out there, and I have a  new respect for all the work a publisher does.  After sorting out copyrights and ISBNs and formats for each individual seller, Couillon is now available for sale via Amazon, B&N, and Smashwords. 

I'm having a glass of champagne right now to celebrate, but trust me, it's a ruse.  Until today, until I opened myself up to the world, not just to people who are my friends, I had a safe cocoon built where I didn't have to face whether or not I'm a good writer.  I know, whiny, but still insecurity is one of my biggest problems.  Yes, I've learned to put up a facade that makes me look confident -- thank you, IBM consulting job -- but that's all it is, a facade.  I almost had a panic attack last night just thinking about all the people who are going to hate my story.

Being real is scary.

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